


Like deep water

by Mysecretfanmoments



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7574008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysecretfanmoments/pseuds/Mysecretfanmoments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi is a mermaid; Bokuto is Bokuto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like deep water

**Author's Note:**

> To Jo, for being mermamazing, mermtastic... mermcredible. (I'm so grateful I have you in my life. Happy birthday. It's mermaid time.)

Tide pools were Keiji’s weakness.

Most of the time, it suited him to be cautious. He heeded the elders’ common sense advice without much trouble: stay far below the surface when humans are nearby, avoid divers, keep an eye out for nets. His friends sometimes ventured near the beach, playing with humans and leaving their minds addled for a week or more as the glamour wore off, and he knew they laughed about it after, telling tales about their conquests, but Keiji felt no need for this. It sounded like a lot of risk for no reward, and he avoided the whole human species without regrets.  _Tide pools_ , though. Tide pools, sun-warmed and wonderful, were too tempting. They beckoned him to stay, and once he was installed in one, he had to wait there until the water rose once more to collect him. It was a risk, but its reward was clear to him: to feel warmth in his bones, all the way through, in the ache where deep sea pressure left its invisible traces. The water of a tide pool felt like liquid sunlight on his skin, and it was worth being trapped in the shore’s cupped hands if he could feel his body melt with that transcendent warmth.

It was worth it right up until he heard the scrape of shoes against rock.

There was an instant panic response, and Keiji splashed about the pool, looking over its rim in all directions for an escape. All his options were bad, and would lead to him being scraped and bloody by the time he got back to the ocean’s embrace. With his luck, he’d pick up something nasty in the process. He clenched his jaw as he heard voices calling to one another.

He hated pain. He didn’t like to use his glamour, and what he knew about humans he didn’t like, but he  _hated_  pain, and so he folded his tail under him and imagined legs. When his tail shimmered under a veil of glamour, showing the rest of the world an ordinary pair of legs, he imagined the glow of his skin receding to a matte, human texture, the mottled colours of it changing to an even beige. He didn’t bother to change his teeth, which were only a little sharper than a human’s. Their species _had_ intermingled, in the past—some of the human world’s greatest pearl divers were only partly human—and so the differences were only mild, but Keiji still felt nervous. A moment before the humans appeared he remembered to change his eyes, so they were white with darker circles within.  

A human topped the rise opposite Keiji, and his sentence—he’d been in the middle of one before—trailed off. This human was like most others: two legs, two arms, unwebbed fingers. He was stocky and vivacious, face flooded with colour from the exercise, and for a moment Keiji wondered whether a warm, large human such as this could ever stand the cold weight of the ocean’s depths. Then Keiji realised it wasn’t normal for humans to stand and stare, and knew he’d done something wrong. The eyes, he thought. The eyes weren’t quite dark circles within white ones—there was more subtlety to the colouring. He adjusted his eyes accordingly, opening his mouth to try and greet the human.

“Hello!” the human yelled, before Keiji could say a word. Keiji wasn’t used to being greeted by humans, but this one still struck him as odd. The human breathed heavily, twitching a little in apparent indecision. Awkwardness?

“Hello,” Keiji said. It was awkward to form the words, but his magic smoothed over the odd sounds that accompanied his speech and marked him as Other.

“May we join you?” The question was accompanied by more fidgeting. Keiji nodded.

Two more humans appeared, clad similarly to the first in beach wear with sturdy-looking sandals. The shortest one had a red bucket which, by the smell of it, was filled with edible morsels.

“I can’t believe you found this place before us!” said the first one, the one who’d stared. “It’s so far out, I thought for sure no one else was here.”

Keiji smiled and shrugged, still not totally sure of his voice or how to speak. Introductions were made, and Keiji quested around for a convincing family name. He remembered one, a fisherman’s name—one of the human folk who joined his own. He gave his name as a human would, calling himself Akaashi Keiji. The humans were Bokuto, Kuroo, Kozume, though they called each other by a variety of nicknames.

“How’d you find this place?” Bokuto asked. He settled himself on the ledge nearby, closest to Keiji. Kozume continued his search for crabs while the third stood looking around.

“I was in the area,” Keiji said. “How did you find it?”

“I wanted to see what was out here.” Bokuto grinned. “Dragged them with me.”

“It’s a good place,” Kozume said, investigating something under a ledge. “You did well.”

Kuroo didn’t seem to agree; his mouth was tight.

“You don’t think so?” Keiji asked him, wondering if this one sensed something about him—a wrongness, maybe. Some people were naturally immune to the glamour, finding the sight of glamoured Others sickening, though they couldn’t tell why.

“Don’t mind him,” Kozume said. “He hates slimy things.”

Keiji was surprised—and then Kuroo let out a groan and sat on the rock where he stood.

“We’re land people! Land! Why do we have to go where it’s slimy and look for things that scuttle? It’s—eugh. I hate it. I can’t believe you can sit in it.”

This last bit was directed at Keiji, who nearly laughed in surprise. He looked at the seaweed-covered rocks of the tide pool, the recesses where creatures could hide. Was it disgusting to humans?

“It’s warm,” Keiji said. “What part is bad?”

“The ‘I could touch something slimy’ part.”

Bokuto fired back that plenty things outside of a tide pool were slimy, and the conversation moved on to other things, with Keiji asked for comment more than a few times, as if he was a natural part of this group. He found himself drawn in, surprised at how quick human conversation was. It was hard to keep up with it. His own people had a language that was only sometimes sound-based, often including the use of swimming patterns and gestures to communicate. It was wasteful to breathe out one’s air in an attempt at speech.

“Do you want to join us?” Bokuto asked at last, when the water was rising again. “We’re going to head back to the town, eat, maybe watch a movie tonight at the outdoor place. Do you… would you want to come along?”

There seemed to be a strange weight to the suggestion, underlined by frequent, tentative glances. Bokuto was nervous about something. Keiji shook his head. “I have plans,” he said. He felt just the slightest bit of regret that he couldn’t join this group for a night of human revels; Bokuto looked crestfallen.

“Sure!” Bokuto said with false cheer, and then the tentativeness was back again. “Maybe I’ll see you another day.”

Keiji glanced at the others, who were studiously pretending not to listen. Suddenly, he realised these questions weren’t simple invitations. The tentativeness, the hope in Bokuto’s gaze—was this human courtship? He was flattered.

“I’d like that,” he said. What a strange thought, that this warm, solid human would want to court him. It set a pleasant tingle along his skin, a giddy flush. How could his cousins brag about conquests when humans did all the courtship for them? Keiji had done nothing. He hadn’t enticed Bokuto in any way, and his glamour had only rendered him human. His cousins and friends were braggarts, he concluded.

“Do you want to walk back with us?” Kozume asked. His bucket was fuller now, and the smell of it made Keiji’s stomach rumble.

“I’ll stay longer. Thank you for the invitation.”

“The tide will be in soon,” Kozume said.

Keiji nodded and waited for them to take their leave. After they disappeared from view, he let his glamour drop and breathed out a sigh that wasn’t just relief, his body trembling in delayed response to the shock of sitting and talking to humans for so long. Oddly enough, he wanted to see them again.

He dunked his head beneath the surface, hoping to clear it of absurd impulses like visiting the same pool tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

 

“He’s perfect,” Koutarou sighed. He saw his companions exchange glances. “What? You don’t think he’s perfect?”

“He hangs out in slime pools by himself,” Tetsurou said. “He’s a strange and fearless guy.”

“We liked him,” Kenma added. “Kuro’s worried you’ll rush in and get hurt, though.”

“I didn’t say that,” Tetsurou said.

“You thought it, though.”

Tetsurou sighed. “Yeah.”

Koutarou considered it. That was definitely possible—but Akaashi had said he’d like to see him again, even if he’d shied away from exchanging contact info. He probably shouldn’t feel as hopeful as he did, but something about Akaashi—his serene gaze, maybe, or the curious lift of his brows—made him feel like he had a chance. Akaashi was beautiful and mysterious and made Koutarou feel like he was interesting instead of brash or too loud or too excitable.

“I’ll take that risk,” Koutarou said.

“We knew you would.”

 

* * *

 

Keiji didn’t feel all that guilty about going out near the tide pool the next day. He stayed off the dry land, but made sure to remain clearly visible in case Bokuto and his friends visited again. If Keiji's friends could make fools of themselves near beaches full of humans, he could talk to a small group of them without risking society as he knew it.

“Akaashi!”

The call came as a surprise. Keiji had practiced his glamour overnight, making sure he could use it as he swam, but he hadn’t had it active in that first moment. Only his head was showing, though. It ought to be fine.

He waved, his hand shimmering with the glamour that had just concealed the webbing between his fingers.

“Do you live out here?” Bokuto called, crawling down the rock formation to join Keiji. He seemed to be alone today, though he was just as cheerful as the day before. There was no true beach near the tide pools here, and when he reached the water level he sat on a ledge with his feet in the water, getting pushed back by waves on occasion. He smiled whenever it happened, like the sea was an old, excitable friend.

“I live out here,” Keiji confirmed, knowing it wouldn’t be believed.

Bokuto grinned. “So what’s your deal? Olympic swimmer to be? I guess you have the body for it.”

Keiji didn’t know what an Olympic swimmer was, but a human telling him he had the body for swimming amused him; his smile made Bokuto go still. “I just like being out here,” he said.

“Me… too…” Bokuto said. His voice was dazed, and his gaze dropped from Keiji’s smile to his collarbone. His cheeks flushed, causing Keiji to experience a moment of doubt. Did his glamour entice humans even when all he did was remove his non-human features? Could he be luring Bokuto in by accident? He touched Bokuto’s hand, wanting to take him out of his trance, and Bokuto’s eyes snapped to his.

Keiji’s heart raced. He drew his hand back, feeling extremely self-conscious about that touch. Yesterday Kuroo had ranted against _slimy things_ ; was his hand included? Even if it wasn’t repugnant to Bokuto, it was a strange thing for Keiji to do. He’d never touched a human before. Human skin was warm, soft. Heat radiated from it in a way that would kill merfolk in the cold depths. Keiji wondered if the legends of his people wrapping around humans and accidentally drowning them had to do with that delicious, shareable heat.

Bokuto grabbed for his hand, cheeks flaming. “You’re so cold!” he said. “You should get out of the water, warm up—”

Large, human hands folded around Keiji’s, palms dry and warm. Keiji closed his eyes with pleasure. His tail curled.

“Ah!” Bokuto said, jumping. He peered into the water. “A fish swam past me.”

Keiji looked too, but knew there was no fish. His tail had brushed Bokuto’s calf by accident as it responded to his touch.

“We should look for it,” Keiji said. “You can swim, can’t you?”

“I can swim, but I can’t open my eyes underwater.”

“Oh.”

Bokuto seemed embarrassed to have fallen short; he looked away. Keiji took the chance to admire him, imagining all the heat pouring off his solid form. He wanted to touch that strange human skin, but knew it wouldn’t be pleasant for Bokuto if he did. All he’d feel would be cold, slippery wetness. Kuroo had made it clear this was not a desirable sensation for humans.

Could glamour make up the difference?

The thought made shock pour through Keiji’s body. What was he thinking? It was all right to be flattered by a human’s attention, but wanting to get closer to one went beyond the acceptable. He let himself drop below the surface before coming up again, drifting onto his back, his tail stretching in the water. Bokuto would only see legs in a human swimming garment.

“Can you float?” Keiji asked, sensing that Bokuto was still disappointed in himself for not being able to look for fish together. Bokuto dropped into the water in reply, coming to float next to him.

“For hours,” Bokuto said. This seemed like a strange boast, until Keiji found it wasn’t a boast at all. They got to talking, and time passed as they bobbed in the sea side by side, sometimes exploring, sometimes just drifting aimlessly. Keiji hated avoiding Bokuto’s personal questions, but he did so anyway. Eventually speaking the human language tired him out, and he let Bokuto carry the conversation, telling him about school, jobs, friends. It was a window into another world, one that seemed as far away as the sun or the moon—further, even, because Keiji knew he would never even glimpse it with his own eyes.

“Can I see you again?” Bokuto asked when it was time for him to head back. Keiji nodded, knowing he ought to say no. He’d always been solitary for one of their kind, but eventually people would start to wonder where he was going; they would suspect him of meeting with someone, and perhaps they would condemn him—or simply tease. Keiji didn’t know which was worse.

He watched Bokuto climb up the rocks until he was out of sight.

 

* * *

 

 

Koutarou could hear the sea even in his dreams. Every morning he ran down to the rocky outcropping where Akaashi practiced, and every afternoon he spent with Akaashi, falling deeper into his fascination even as he became increasingly sure something was wrong. For a while Koutarou thought that perhaps Akaashi was homeless and living somewhere in a cave nearby, but something told him it wasn’t that simple. When he asked Tetsurou and Kenma, who joined him on occasion, they agreed that Akaashi was odd, but offered no theories.

A theory had started to form in Koutarou’s mind, but it was insane. Impossible. And yet, it explained Akaashi’s always-cold hands, the occasional iridescent sheen of his skin when he thought Koutarou wasn’t looking, the way his eyes sometimes looked all-black, though when Koutarou blinked they were as human as they’d been before. At first the thought had scared him, but he didn’t seem to have it in him to be scared of Akaashi. He decided, quite plainly, to trust him. If Akaashi had wanted to drown him and pluck out his vital organs, he could have done so a hundred times over.

His true fear was the fear that Akaashi would simply be gone one day, and it came to pass two weeks into their strange friendship. Koutarou hadn’t come out the previous day—he had plans with his friends—and now Akaashi wasn’t at the rocky cliff side.

Had Akaashi moved on? Was he gone? In trouble? Koutarou paced for an hour, then sat abruptly. He chewed at his bottom lip and watched the ocean twinkle green and blue. He thought of those imagined all-black eyes, the sheen of Akaashi’s skin. Eventually, the blasting sunlight tired him out, and he moved into the shade of a rock. He laid on his back, closing his eyes, hearing the sea.

Sleep overtook him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Keiji had nearly lost them. He’d doubled back several times, taking a twisting path through wrecks and beds of seaweed, rubbing sand along his skin to dull his scent. The calls of his friends had faded to nothing, though he wasn’t sure they were truly gone. He swam circuits for another hour before going back to the place he considered his—his and Bokuto’s. He was tired when he arrived, his mind frayed with strange panic. No one would kill him for spending time with a human, but he feared nonetheless. What did he fear? Disapproval? Being told to stop? He didn’t know. He only knew he didn’t want his people anywhere near Bokuto.

At first the rocky outcropping looked empty—but then Keiji saw Bokuto’s slumbering form in the shadow of a jagged rock. Without glamouring himself, Keiji pulled his body out of the water, carefully edging along the rock until he was looking down on Bokuto, noting his open mouth and the tilt of his head, how vulnerable he looked. He wanted to cover his body with his own, as if it would accomplish something—as if there was some hidden danger Keiji could protect him from. Keiji traced the side of his face with webbed fingers, holding his breath. This had been a bad idea. Letting Bokuto see him again—day after day after day—had been a bad idea.  

He placed a kiss to the side of Bokuto’s mouth. Should he leave, and never come back?

“Akaashi,” Bokuto mumbled. Sudden panic filled Keiji’s chest. He needed his glamour, but Bokuto’s eyes opened before he could conjure one into place. Bokuto looked into his eyes, really seeing him. After a long moment his hand came up to caress Keiji’s cheekbone, his touch feather light.

Keiji met his gaze, his heart in his throat.

“Wow,” Bokuto said. He breathed deeply, then said it again: “Wow.”

Keiji looked away. He was an oddity, something to wonder at for a while. They lived in different worlds, and suddenly Keiji’s world was a lonely one despite its miracles. The constant onslaught of waves could wear a rock down, could smooth it to softness, but sea would never be rock, and rock would never become sea. It was useless to pretend they were the same thing, even if they both made up the shoreline. Bokuto’s life would take place on land, and Keiji’s would take place at sea, even when they intersected from time to time.

His thoughts drifted away from him; he was shocked from his reverie by Bokuto’s mouth pressing to his, sweet and free of salt. It wasn’t a chaste kiss, and the slide of Bokuto’s tongue along his awakened him from the grey mist of worry, sending desire lancing through him. Bokuto was fearless, all solid, brash humanity. He blazed like the sun, and Keiji didn’t resist; he melted into Bokuto’s embrace as if he belonged there.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since day one,” Bokuto said finally, when they drew back. Though his kiss had been bold, he seemed shy now, concerned. “Was that allowed? You won’t turn into a frog?”

“I don’t know what frogs are. I won’t turn into one, I think.”

“Good. That’s good. And… you won’t disappear?”

Keiji shook his head.

“I like you,” Bokuto said. His eyes were wide. “Will you let me visit you more?”

“The warm season will end,” Keiji said. He couldn’t look Bokuto in the eye.

“It’ll come back,” Bokuto said. “Please don’t tell me to stay away.”

“I wasn’t going to. You’re…” Keiji’s breathing was strange, fluttery. “Interesting.”

He looked away from Bokuto’s grin, feeling like a fool. From the stories, his people were often fools, getting caught between their world and the world of humans, hapless as the fish they resembled. But how could Keiji not be drawn to Bokuto’s blaze? He wanted to wrap around him and drink in his warmth, his vivacity. He wanted to explore the differences between them, even though they scared him.

“Sunset,” Bokuto said, nodding, and Keiji turned to look. The sky was stained orange. His own body reflected it where Bokuto’s drank it in, and Bokuto’s hand moved to cover his own.

“Webbed fingers,” Bokuto said suddenly, picking up Keiji’s hand to examine it.

Keiji nodded.

“You’re so cool,” Bokuto breathed.

“My body retains heat better than yours,” Keiji said, though he wasn’t sure if that was what Bokuto meant. Bokuto shook his head.

“No, no—cool like… uh. Like seeing a friend unexpectedly, or a sunset like that. Or, uh…”

“Like a sunset?” Keiji asked, wondering if outrageous compliments were a normal part of human courtship.

“Yeah.” Bokuto’s eyes caught his. He looked flushed, his hand still clutching Keiji’s. “Just like that.”

“I’m nothing like a sunset,” Keiji said, embarrassed. “Am I slimy?”

“You’re wet, and you taste like salt, but you’re not slimy.”

They sat in silence for a long time, Bokuto’s arm creeping up around Keiji’s shoulders. When Keiji looked at him, he had a guilty look on his face, like he was doing something daring. Keiji decided not to tell him he would coil around him like rope if he could; let Bokuto think his tentative gestures were brave. Given the history between their people, perhaps they were; tales with unhappy endings drifted through his mind. Someone always got hurt in situations like this—but Keiji resolved that if anyone did it would be him, who could swim in dark, heavy ocean and not be crushed. This would be no different.

Bokuto caught him looking, and smiled. Keiji’s heart squeezed. Well, he thought: perhaps it would be a little different… and then Bokuto’s hand came up tentatively, brushing hair back from Keiji’s forehead with a reverence that made Keiji feel shy.

Perhaps it would be a lot different.


End file.
